


There's Nothin' Better

by orphan_account



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Canon Compliant, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, let them Fuck, they just love each other a lot okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alex reads fanfiction about him and Henry because he's ever curious, of course.They really just love each other a lot. (Enough to read weird fanfiction and crack jokes about one another).





	There's Nothin' Better

"There's more," Alex says, scrolling down the page he has opened on his phone. Henry lets out a sigh from his lap but doesn't stop him from continuing even though it's obvious that he's concerned about Alex's fixation. He has been at it for over an hour. "This one is tagged with _Henry is a power bottom fight me_."

"That's...Interesting."

"And true. Oh, another- _Alex isn't the best at giving head but hell if he doesn't try_. That's offensive."

"That one is definitely true."

"What? I've gotten better."

"The sloppy enthusiasm is my favorite part anyway."

Alex frowns but continues scrolling, picking out different fanfics to open and skim through. Most are just the two of them having sex in a variety of ways, and he begins to realize how strange it actually is that people spend time writing fiction about his life like this.

It's also great entertainment. And some of it gives him ideas that he files away for later.

"This one has you dirty talking like a porn actor," Alex says after a while, laughing. "You swear a lot but I don't know about all of this. You? With a daddy kink? That's a new one."

"I do not curse that much, I'm sure. And if anyone here were to be referred to as _daddy_ it would be me."

With his rounded vowels and deadpan face, Alex lets out a loud, sudden laugh. He's probably right about the daddy thing, but he’s also well aware that neither of them fit the stereotype for it either way.

"I'll record you some time. We can make an entire royal sex tape and send it out like Paris Hilton," he says, pointedly ignoring the other part of what Henry said.

Henry gives him a withering look when he peeks around his phone to look at him. "No, we won't be doing that."

"Oh, here's one," Alex says, skimming through another story of absolute fiction. " _Alex had posters of Henry lining his walls when he was a teenager._ God, no I didn't. I didn't even have one poster, June had one in a magazine she kept in her drawer, though."

Henry makes a noise and Alex looks down at him again. "How many times did you go look at it?"

"Like one time," he stops when Henry raises his brows. "Okay, a lot, but in my defense, I just wanted to be like you until I discovered you were a douchebag."

"Are you sure this wasn't a prelude to your Great Bisexual Awakening?"

Alex shuts the screen of his phone off and glares at Henry. "I didn't have one of those. I just- I admired you before I even knew you, okay? Then you shut me down in Rio and I hated you."

"I didn't _shut you down_ I was just in a mood."

"Whatever. Anyway, I didn't have any posters of you in my wall."

"I'm sure you considered it."

"Fuck off, I didn't." He had. He definitely had.

Henry grins at him and something in him melts down to a puddle like chocolate on a hot summer day. He forgets what he was arguing about when Henry sits up and leans in, hand brushing his cheek so tenderly before he kisses Alex. His lips are soft and pliant, and they taste faintly of tea. Alex opens his mouth for him and lets Henry's tongue slip in, hot and warm as he slides it over his. His thumbs brush over Alex's temples, not unlike their very first kiss.

Alex's hands find purchase in Henry's shirt, gripping it between his fingers as they kiss. Every time their lips meet, Alex feels that hot wave of desire and love curling around his heart, threatening to consume him and anything in its path.

He loves Henry. A lot. A real fucking lot.

When Henry pulls away to kiss along his jawline, Alex sighs. "Okay, alright, I did want a poster of you on my wall."

Henry just snorts and continues, warm lips gliding over his skin. The scratch of his late evening scruff is delicious, and Alex closes his eyes.

"Fanfiction is silly," Henry says against his throat, the timber of his voice sending a spark down Alex's spine. He pushes Alex back onto the bed, climbing over him. Alex watches him quietly as he pulls off his shirt with one hand, tossing it off to the side. "I do not curse, ever, and you've gotten quite good with your mouth."

"I have, haven't I?" Alex shoots back, Henry rolling his eyes. "Want me to do it again?"

"Not this time," Henry replies, dipping back down to press a quick kiss to Alex's lips. "I do enjoy it immensely, but it's my turn."

The noise Alex makes surprises even him, guttural and low in his throat. They kiss for a long time–all hungry lips and tongues and saliva and probably far too much biting. It's hot and fervent; Henry's teeth nipping Alex's lip, hips rocking against him. Henry pulls back until he's sitting up straight, staring down at Alex coquettishly. "What else did you read?"

Alex's hands open on Henry's hips as he grins. "There's a lot of me tying you up."

The corner of Henry's mouth twitches into a smirk. "That does happen quite often. Do you think we're being watched?"

Alex lifts his hips subtly, Henry's face softening as his mouth opens in pleasure. "Doubtful."

"Go on, what else?"

Alex licks his lips. "One of them referred to your dick as _the royal scepter_ and I'm a bit offended because I didn't come up with it first."

Henry flushes red as he always does, but his smile widens. "That's awful, I beg of you not to call it that."

Alex surges up to kiss him, closing the short distance between them to press their lips together again, hands on either side of himself to hold his weight. Henry lets out a startled noise, but his hands find their way back to the sides of Alex's face, one straying down his jaw and throat to grasp the curls at the back of his neck.

"Your royal scepter is spectac-" Alex says against Henry's lips. Henry smiles and tightens his hold on Alex's hair, effectively shutting him the hell up before he can wax poetic about it as per usual.

They stay like this for a while, quiet gasps for breath, the slide of their tongues, and the rasp of their clothing as Henry ruts against him. Henry's fingers tug Alex's hair, a delicious pull on the back of his head.

It's amazing, really, how much he enjoys Henry pulling his hair.

After a while, Henry stops, dropping his hand from Alex's hair to shove him down onto his back.

Alex smirks and raises a brow, giving Henry his challenging stare. "Are you going to fuck me or do I need to do it myself?"

He's already achingly hard, and it’s apparent that Henry is too, rolling his hips to find friction.

He knows Henry is losing his composure, eyes fluttering shut. Alex runs his hand up Henry's abdomen, over the soft planes of his skin. " _Baby,_ " he adds, for good measure.

Henry growls and opens his eyes before removing himself from Alex's lap, making quick work of Alex's belt and fly. He rips Alex's pants and boxers down his legs when Alex lifts his hips to help him, and Alex only kicks them off of one leg before Henry is back on him again. Alex's legs fall open for him to slot between them, opening himself for Henry so willingly.

Those lips are fucking lethal, trailing along the soft skin of Alex's hip, his tongue flicking out every so often. His hands leisurely glide up the insides of Alex's thighs.

"Beautiful," Henry murmurs, admiring every inch of Alex's exposed flesh with a heavy gaze. Alex tries to remember how to breathe when Henry swallows him down.

It's astonishing how good Henry is at this. He knows how fast to go, how to suction his lips just right. God, those perfect, plush lips. His eyes fixated on Alex, watching him as he moves, one hand caressing Alex's thigh, the other gripping the base of his shaft.

It's hot, everything is hot, Alex is a fucking inferno–searing, frenetic energy–his nerve endings sheared off. Henry is so good with his mouth, and it's warm and wet and he's sucking Alex down to the hilt, choking on his cock, never looking away, even as his eyes water.

Alex remembers again to breathe, letting out the air he'd been holding in. His hands slide into Henry's hair, gripping it tightly, begging for.. What, he isn't sure. Henry's eyes are big and bright and wide, and somehow he manages to return Alex's challenging stare from before. The one Alex has since lost his hold on.

Henry, ever the contender.

The sounds he's making should be, frankly, illegal. Slurping and choking and Alex is certain he's going to implode. He squeezes his eyes shut and his lips part, but only a wavery, moaned _Baby_ tumbles out.

Henry hums, and the vibration of it makes Alex's back lift from the bed, arching up for more. It's not enough and it's too much all at once. Alex doesn't remember how to think about anything but Henry and the way his mouth feels.

Then Henry stops, his mouth replaced by his hand, stroking slowly until Alex comes back down from the clouds and slits open his eyes.

"Why did you stop?" Alex asks, half whining as he tries to buck his hips up. Henry lets go of his length and pins his hips to the bed with his large, splayed open hands.

"I don't want you to finish yet."

Alex is going to have to beg for it, certainly.

Henry smiles at him knowingly and kisses the tip of Alex's cock as he wraps his fingers around it again. He's slower this time, languid and meticulous while he runs his tongue along the ridge of it.

"Please," Alex begs.

"No," Henry replies, dragging out the vowel.

Alex gnaws on his lip and gives Henry's hair a quick yank. That does nothing but earn him a moan of approval, which does nothing to ease the ache.

It's obvious Henry has no intention of letting Alex win, so he shuts up and takes it. For now. The warmth of Henry's mouth sinking down on his cock are enough, and the pleasure of it cascading down his spine is all he can focus on.

He's close, so close, his toes curling and his fist tightening in Henry's hair. And again, Henry stops. He strokes Alex slowly until his toes uncurl and his breathing slows. He blinks through the blur in his vision to see Henry, still looking up at him with a daring flicker in his eyes.

Alex is going to die.

When Henry does it again, the moan torn from Alex’s throat is long and needy and clipped at the end. A quick hitch of breath when his cock hits the back of Henry’s throat. He’s so good, _so good_ , swallowing around it and making little noises, the vibrations sending shivers through Alex’s fucking soul. He’s really going to die. His toes have gone numb and he’s pulling Henry’s hair so hard that it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped it from his head.

His other hand rests on Henry’s cheek as it hollows with every swallow of Alex’s length. He’s so good. He remembers the thought of sending whoever taught Henry this a fruit basket, but it’s dim in the haze of Henry looking up at him like he’s something holy and unbelievable. Alex _feels_ holy and unbelievable like he’s in a dream and none of this is real and the prince of goddamn England doesn't have Alex's dick in his mouth.

Henry knows every time he brings Alex right to the cusp of his orgasm because every time he stops and strokes Alex's cock until he comes back down. He's sent to the edge only to be ripped back by Henry before he can trip over it. It's maddening. It’s hot. It’s becoming too much for him and his tingling skin.

Alex isn't above begging. They've been at it for a while. His toes are numb, his spine is tingling, and his cock downright _aches_.

"Henry," he says quietly, mustering all of his energy. Henry's eyes have never left his face, not once. "Please."

Henry drags his open mouth up Alex's shaft, his bottom lip catching on the ridge. He smiles. Devious little shit. "Please what?"

Alex groans and pulls his hands from Henry to scrub them over his own face. His chest is heaving, he can't really feel his legs, and his brain feels a bit like cotton shoved in his head. Once he drops his hands he glares down at Henry. "Stop being a tease."

Henry rubs Alex's cock head over his cheek and smiles again. "Or what?"

Alex huffs and sits up, ripping his shirt off over his head before moving to the side, pointing to where he had just been laying. "You. There."

Henry squints at him but obliges, sliding up the bed until he's flat on his back. Alex tries to catch his breath as he practically rips the remainder of Henry's clothing off. Henry's cock is hard; pink and flushed and dripping with precum. Alex wants to lick it, but he doesn't. If Henry isn't inside of him within the next few minutes he may have a breakdown.

Fumbling in the bedside drawer, he pulls out a bottle of lube. Henry just smiles at him, lips so vividly red. “Someone is eager.”

“Someone just edged me for like a half an hour, fuck you.”

Henry just tugs his face down to kiss him gently, his fingers stroking the curls at the back of Alex’s head. He forgets how to breathe again, as if Henry has sucked all of the air from his lungs.

They part and Alex uncaps the bottle and pours some over his fingers before he closes it again, lobbing it off to the side before adjusting himself over Henry. He holds himself up with one hand, his left one, right next to Henry’s shoulder. His other reaches behind himself, and as he slides a finger into his hole, he closes his eyes.

The quiet words of praise Henry whispers to him as he rises to pave a path with his mouth over Alex’s throat spur him on.

_You’re perfect._

_Yes, just like that, you’re doing so good._

_I love you, sweetheart._

Alex furrows his brows and bites his lip, trying hard not to come before he wants to. No, he _needs_ to feel Henry before he can. He slides another finger in, brushing them just barely over his prostate, and he nearly collapses on top of Henry, his left arm shaking. He’s worked up and it feels like every one of his senses had their settings turned up ten times too high.

“Alex,” Henry whispers, petting down his curls. “Let me take care of you.”

The sound Alex emits at that is embarrassing, but he’s far too turned on to care. He needs, he wants, and Henry is soothing him and pulling his fingers out with gentle hands. He’s kissing Alex’s throat with an open mouth, licking the salt and the sweat from his skin, and then he’s pushing inside of him and Alex’s brain short circuits. The stretch of Henry’s length inside of him is so good, almost as soothing as his fingers carding through Alex’s hair.

Alex drops his head into the crook of Henry’s neck and breathes, just inhaling the smell of his expensive cologne and his sweat.

This part is different, Henry’s arms wrap around Alex, holding him close to his chest. His thrusts are steady and slow, but he finds that spot in Alex that makes his vision white-out. Alex can’t think straight, all he can do is hold onto Henry as he fucks him gently, bringing him right back to that edge.

But this time, Henry shoves him over.

The friction of his cock caught between their bodies and the rub of Henry’s against his tender bundle of nerves sends him soaring. He shudders and comes, moaning and gripping the sheets on either side of Henry as he does. Henry holds him through it, his hips still slow and steady.

It’s one of the most intense orgasms Alex has ever had. Everything is sweaty and sticky, and there’s come halfway up his chest and he can’t unstick himself from Henry, but he returns to his body just as Henry comes.

Alex pulls back to watch him, watch as his face softens and his mouth opens and his eyes shut. And he feels it, feels as Henry spills deep inside of him at the end of a deep thrust; as his fingers dig into Alex’s back; as his cock pulses inside of him. Henry chokes out a small laugh as he does sometimes when he comes, and it burns Alex from the inside out.

There’s nothing as beautiful as watching Henry come. Even when his hair is plastered to his forehead and his face and chest are a bright shade of red. He’s perfect and stunning and Alex can’t stop himself from dipping down to kiss him, to lick into his mouth and grab hold of his damp hair and cling to him as if he’s going to leave.

Alex shakes and Henry holds him. He kisses the side of his face, down his jawline, over his throat. His hands rub circles into Alex’s back, and he’s coaxing him back and whispering that he loves Alex more than he’s ever loved anyone.

And Alex is nuzzling into Henry’s neck and his hands curl into Henry’s hair.

Henry flips them over, pushing Alex down into the mattress. His hands are everywhere: in his hair, brushing through the wild curls; on his face, thumbs rubbing over his skin; on his throat, feeling the pulse in his neck as it slows down; on his chest, feather-light over his nipples; on his stomach, combing through the hair below his navel; on his hips, touching the bones; on his legs, kneading the quivering muscles with his big hands.

Alex opens his eyes and watches him. After he’s done touching every inch of Alex with his hands, he traces his steps with his lips. They’re soft and wet and warm and Alex touches Henry’s hair again, scratches his scalp, whispers back a broken _I love you_.

Because God, does he.

The love he has for Henry swells in his chest until it becomes too much, like eating too many sweets but not regretting it for a moment. Loving Henry is like having molten lava poured into his veins. It’s almost like he’s flying too close to the sun and everything is bright, too bright, but he can’t look away.

Henry is the center of his universe.

When his shaking ceases and everything just feels gross and itchy, Henry rolls off of him. He cleans Alex with a warm, wet cloth and Alex closes his eyes and smiles.

Henry lays beside him on his stomach and Alex opens his eyes again. Henry turned off the lamp, but the moonlight casts stripes of white across Henry’s back. The sheet is bunched up around his ass (his perfect, perfect ass) and Alex runs the pads of his fingers up his back.

He can’t make out Henry’s face, but he’s sure he has that sleepy, sated smile, the one where the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“I love you,” Alex says suddenly, breaking the silence.

Henry breathes for a moment, and Alex feels his muscles relax as he runs the palm of his hand over them.

“I love you too.”

Alex doesn’t want to stop touching him. His fingers run over the ridges of his spine, over his shoulder blades and back down. He touches the dimples in Henry’s lower back, touches the gentle swell of his ass.

He knows Henry is asleep when he begins to snore quietly, but Alex doesn’t care. He lays there on his side with Henry’s breath feathering over his chest, propped up on his elbow and touches Henry’s skin.

Only when he can’t keep his eyes open any longer does he quit. He presses a kiss to Henry’s forehead and rolls over. Henry curls up behind him only a few moments later, an arm dropping over Alex’s side, a leg moving over Alex’s.

And then he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Soz about the dumb jokes. But not really.
> 
> The title is from Make Me Feel by Janelle Monáe.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr!](http://www.lecheesie.tumblr.com)


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